The Naked Truth

Our breathing slowed, and my heartbeat returned to normal although I could still feel a reminder throb in my clit.

"You can open your eyes now."

I cracked one eye open to find him propped up on one elbow, staring at me with a look of smug satisfaction. "Wha..." I tried. I licked my lips and swallowed. "What...?

His green eyes closed for a minute and he looked to be trying to find the right words. "Don't be mad. I read your journal."

"What!" I said, startled. "I didn't even know that you knew that I had one."

"I didn't," he said, a little sheepishly. "I wanted to make that cheese dip when I was watching the game the other day and had to look through the cookbooks. Imagine my surprise when I found that instead of recipes."

I closed my eyes. I had written some pretty blunt things in there, feeling confident that he would never read it. Things that now made me want to crawl in a hole and die of shame too, like how I was curious about anal sex, and how I wondered about the fine line between pain and pleasure, how dirty words made me hot, and how I would sell my soul to have him out of control with lust for me. My eyes burned. I was mortified.

"Hey," he said gently, stroking my jaw with his knuckle. "I'm sorry, Liz. I shouldn't have read it. I'm glad I did though. I never knew how you felt. You never said anything. I felt like you weren't...satisfied with me. Us. When we... had sex. So I just stopped trying. I didn't know that you blamed yourself or that you felt like I had lost interest. I believe that I just showed you that I haven't."

I remained silent, trying to hold in the tears. Somehow it made it worse that he wasn't mad at me. Instead, he was understanding and gave me this whole special night. And I had written that he was a slob, and unfeeling, and the most passion-less person I had ever met, no matter how much I loved him. A tear ran down my cheek.

"Liz, don't. I've never been the type of guy that shows a lot. I love you and I love the kids and I know that I don't say it, or show it, nearly enough. I had no idea that you were upset that we had slowed down...in the bedroom. I knew that we had grown apart but I honestly thought it was something that just happened, you know, because we had been married for awhile. There were so many times when I wanted you, or wanted to let loose and nail you to the bed, but I didn't because I was afraid of what you'd think. When we met, you were teaching Sunday school. I thought, well, I always held back. I thought you thought I was a pervert. I had no clue that you were hiding the same feelings that I was."

"Really?" I opened my eyes.

He smiled slowly, tracing my lower lip with his thumb. "Really."

I rolled onto my side and scooted close to him, tucking my head just under his chin as he wrapped his arms around me.

His chest rumbled against my ear as he spoke. "From now on, you are going to have to beat me off with a stick."

"Wouldn't that be uncomfortable? Beating you off, with a stick?" I grinned, snuggling in closer.

He laughed out loud and squeezed me. "I've created a monster."

"Grrr, baby." I bit him on the chest. This time, he was the one that shivered.